


His One

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Knotting, M/M, Omegaverse, Self-Lubrication, a/b/o dynamics, dominance play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 07:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4092769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori was a young omega who worked as a scribe apprentice for Mister Balin, very fond of the beta dwarf and his younger brother, a strapping alpha by the name of Dwalin.</p><p>Boring-Beta-Bilbo-Baggins has never really been known to be anything of interest. Thorin feels very differently about his new burglar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this got porn-y a lot faster than I expected it to, so have some smut!

Ori, as an omega, found most alpha scents alluring.

Ori, as a rational person who thinks with his mind and not his cock, isn’t attracted to all those people, beyond their pleasing odors.

And yes, sometimes “odors” was quite the understatement; what with all the manly, testosterone-filled alphas who are miners or blacksmiths working up a heady sweat. In the back of Ori’s mind, he knows that the lack of cleanliness is what caused these scents, and that he should probably be weary of their hygiene. 

Ori, as a person in general, found beta scents to be very calming, as everybody tends to. Mister Balin, an older beta, had taken Ori on as his apprentice a few months ago, and the omega found it all too easy to spend a day doing menial copy-work with the lingering dry-cotton scent of his boss sitting with him at the table, keeping his mind blissfully blind to the world outside the old tomes he was pouring himself over.

However, it all went out the window whenever Balin’s younger brother, a strapping Alpha by the name of Dwalin, would come home and clog up Ori’s nose with his scent; the young lad’s mind strayed slightly from the task, his translations taking twice as long.

Balin began to notice this within a few weeks of Ori starting; at first he had just assumed that Ori had been getting tired easily by the end of the day, but when Dwalin started working night shifts- threats to the city never rested, so why should he, as captain of the city guards?- coming home in the morning and slowing Ori’s progress before the lad had even been there an hour, it began to tick the beta off. He knew biology as well as anyone, he knew that Ori’s reaction didn’t mean anything in particular, it’s just how his mind was hardwired to react to dominant scents. Even so, he managed to convince Dwalin to stick to daytime shifts, keeping him out of the damned house while the two of them worked away in peace.

  
Dwalin, however, was very aware of the younger dwarf’s scent. The amount of time that the omega spends in his house, his smell is all but stuck to the air, sweet and cloying, tempting and delicious. The best analogy Dwalin had come up with in his head so far is the bakery he passes on his patrol route; early in the morning, the baked good were left on cliche windowsills, tempting passersby to live a little and indulge in the easily-taken forbidden fruit. However, thinking of Ori as such made Dwalin question his morality; the boy is barely 100, and Dwalin’s approaching 170 at a pretty rapid pace, he feels downright lecherous lusting after him like this.

 

  
Ori stood in the kitchen with Balin, peeling potatoes dutifully at the sink while sneaking quick glances around. The young lad was intimately familiar with certain sections of the library, and he knew the bare basics of the corridor system, but other than that, he had no idea what the rest of the Fundinsons’ house looked like, considering he’d had no reason to explore previously. Tonight, however, he’d been invited to have dinner with the two brothers, and he was adamant on helping his boss prepare the food as thanks.

Mister Balin was another sight entirely when cooking; he was obviously in the zone, an apron tied loosely around his middle (a much manlier blue, compared to the pink, frilly one Ori had accepted with a chuckle), he hummed a jaunty tune and shoved his entire fist, clenched around a lemon, up a chicken’s backside with enough dramatic flair to make Ori tip his head back and laugh uproariously.

Seeing Balin freeze suddenly made Ori freeze as well, certain something was wrong. When the older dwarf let out a long groan, the omega was about half a second away from dropping the potatoes and assisting him.

“We’re out of salt.” Balin said, as though disappointed in himself for forgetting, “I can’t do a brine for the bird without salt.”

“We have some that I’m sure Dori would let you borrow.” Ori, ever helpful, offered, watching as it put the spring back in Balin’s step.

“Great, back on track, be right back!” He seemed to laugh at the impromptu rhyme and strode out the door.

 

The one thing Ori could say for Ered Luin is that it made getting around incredibly easy; the whole city was built into a mountain face, or rooted firmly outside. The internal passageways were wide enough to function as city streets for relatively busy pedestrians, and the occasional merchant with a load so big, it required a mule and cart. The housing was spread pretty evenly through the town, along with the stores, though it wasn’t a big hassle to get from one side of the mountain to the other if you really wanted to. Ori had obviously won enough favour in a past life to warrant his family living a short stroll from the Fundinsons.

He peeled the potatoes absentmindedly, reaching the last few, when he allowed himself a better look around. The kitchen was remarkably unremarkable, there was nothing really to distinguish it from any run of the mill kitchen. Through the door, though, Ori spied the living room. Peeking his head through the doorframe, he scanned the room curiously, as though running a thorough reconnaissance. There was a fire place with a chimney that he knew had to lead through many twists and turns to get the smoke out of the mountain, there were a few plush-looking couches, but what really caught Ori’s eye was the painting above the mantle.

At first, the omega almost giggled at the ostentatious portrait; it depicted Balin sitting on a regal-looking chair with Dwalin standing attentively at his side. It seemed beyond cliche’d, but he could definitely give credit where it was due to the artist, it looked like an exact copy of the brothers. Ori let out a slight sigh and tilted his head, continuing to analyse the picture. To say he hadn’t noticed how nice Dwalin looks in his City Guard uniform would be far from the truth, and Ori took a moment to thank Mahal for the opportunity to stare at a depiction of the alpha wearing it for an extended time.

As a young omega with a healthy libido (though Ori blushed, just at the thought), he could certainly admire the wide set of a strong alpha shoulders on the older dwarf, the serious gaze and the no-nonsense dedication to keeping the peace. Ori didn’t realise he was biting his lip until the sound of the door unlocking shook him from his daydreaming brutally enough that he nearly bit right through it. 

Rushing back through the kitchen he peered down the hallway. Instead of finding Balin shuffling back in with a measure of salt, he sees that it’s Mister Dwalin, seeming to struggle with an armful of paper, dropping parts of the pile with each movement. Ori steps forward quickly, closing the door for him and picking up the papers that hit the floor.

“Here, Mister Dwalin, let me help?” Ori held his hands out to take some of the load off of the older dwarf’s hands, but all he got was a raised eyebrow and a lengthy pause.

If you had told Dwalin that he’d be coming home to a young, pretty omega in a pink apron fussing over him, he likely would have shaken your hand and wished you luck with whatever mind-altering substance you have running through your body. As it was, the alpha was almost shell-shocked, stuck frozen for a moment before gravity demanded his attention, and he had to rearrange his armful, lest he lose the whole bunch.

Without another word, Dwalin walked into the living room, placing the large stack of papers haphazardly on the coffee table, convinced that when he turned back, the image would be just a figment of his tired brain, probably from all the damned deskwork. Though he discovered that Ori had followed him and was now holding the files he’d gathered from the floor for Dwalin to take.

“Thank you, lad…” Dwalin’s questioning eyebrow had yet to lower as he took in the boy before him once more, just to make certain he wasn’t imagining anything. Ori seemed to be slow on the uptake, and only offered Dwalin a confused look back before his hand brushed the lace trim of his new accessory.

“Oh!” The omega started, sudden realisation hitting him; he probably has a few things to explain. “Mister Balin invited me to have dinner with you two tonight, and I’ve been helping him cook. He’s just ducked out for a minute.”

As though the universe wanted to save Ori any further embarrassment, Balin chose that very moment to walk back through the front door. Giving a silent sigh of relief, Ori retreated back to the kitchen to finish the oh-so-important potato-peeling job, trying his hardest to not listen in on the brothers’ conversation. What he gathered from said conversation, though, was that Balin had promised Dwalin that his apprentice shall stay after dinner to lend a hand with all the paperwork the alpha was wrestling with. Ori had no qualms with that, sorting papers was part of his job, and hey, Mahal knows he owes Balin for setting him up in a scribe job like this.

 

The sounds of Balin washing up in the next room over were clear in the silence of the living room as Ori read over the basics of the reports that Dwalin had handed him. Ori himself had initially insisted he help clean up, but Balin had, probably rightfully, said that helping Dwalin was work enough for the omega. Ori chewed his lips absently as he worked the files into three groups, distinguished by date, from here, he’d have to read them over and put them in the proper order.

Dwalin remained respectfully quiet, save for the quill scratches over the last report he had to actually write, and the occasional grunt or cluster of words to answer Ori’s requests for clarification. It was busy work for the both of them as they sat side-by-side on a couch which wasn’t quite long enough to ignore the proximity of the other, instead trying their hardest to focus on the papers laid out on the table before them.

The noises from Balin in the other room died down eventually and he stuck his head in to say that he was retiring for the night to go read in his chambers, his tiredness too much for him to handle without a joking snore that faded away as he walked down the corridor. Ori and Dwalin remained propped up, both of them contented with the knowledge that neither had to start work early the next morning.

“Hey,” Ori barely breathed the word, but it got Dwalin’s attention. “Who’s ‘Star Head’? Does he go under S or H?”

“Put him under N.” Dwalin snorted, completely expecting Ori’s confused look. “For Nori.”

The laugh that bubbled from Ori’s lips surprised the both of them with its clarity. The omega lifted a hand to cover it but paused at the gruff smile Dwalin gave him in return, hidden mostly by his all-encompassing facial hair. At the sight of the smile, Ori felt something twinge inside him, the same kind of twinge that grows into uncomfortable cramping during his heats. He tried his hardest to fight down his blush at- what he assumes was- a desperate plea from his body to make a move on the alpha sitting beside him.

Ori shook his head and lifted the final pile so that he could slide… Star Head’s file into place. With a sigh of content, he heaved himself up from the couch and stretched out his back, leaning both ways with his arms stretched high above his head (oblivious to Dwalin’s eyes falling on his oddly thin waist). Ori turned on his way out the front door, giving a little wave to the alpha who has walked him out; Dwalin, leaning heavily against the doorframe, gave a nod back and Ori felt the twinge in his insides again, this time, more persistent.

*

Dwalin sighed a little as he pushed open the unlocked door to Ori’s family’s house; no one had answered his knocking, though Balin had sent him here to find what had been keeping the apprentice from his regular duties. At first, the alpha had assumed no one was home, Ori would have answered the knocking otherwise; but having spent more than a few seconds on their doorstep, he could faintly smell the lad. He reflected on his way up the stairs, continuing to search the property; it was absolutely ridiculous, omegan scents were certainly strong, and god knows Dwalin particularly enjoys Ori’s, but a smell shouldn’t be that strong unless-

Dwalin’s mental tirade was cut short when he pushed the door to Ori’s bedroom ajar, the fresh scent of sweetness was rolling off the boy’s skin in gushes and was mixed with the undeniable aroma of desperate arousal. Ori had gone into heat.

Dwalin’s first instinct was to help him… somehow. His mind battled between making sure Ori’s ok, and taking care of the quickly fattening cock in Dwalin’s trousers. At war with himself, Dwalin stood dumbly in the doorway, eyes trained on the scene in front of him; Ori lay on his stomach, facing away from the door, most of his pale skin covered by a thin bedsheet that lay against his round ass.

Dwalin felt a swell of odd pride as he watched the omega; Ori’s hips moved with a shallow grace that looked almost practiced, rubbing his- no doubt, probably leaking- cock against the mattress and subconsciously presenting for an alpha who shouldn’t even be there to see it. The sharp yips and keens that came from the omega were probably more tantalising than they should have been; they called to Dwalin, all but begging him to come closer, and to make the amateurish attempt at stimulation feel good.

  
When Ori got his first whiff of pure alpha, he didn’t even question it. He was still cognitively aware enough to muse to himself, in between grinding motions, that perhaps Dwalin’s scent had stuck to the clothes he had worn yesterday, which now sat on the floor by his bedside. He accepted this as the answer straight off the bat, why question a good thing? With the scent of dominant male in the air, Ori’s motions began to feel even more and more dissatisfying. He knew he smelled an alpha around, and god knows the alpha could help him to feel so much better.

“A-Alpha…” Ori barely managed to mewl out, his brain clogged with the increasingly strong scent of aroused alpha. The lad’s hips canted back, presenting his rear to be taken whenever the alpha demanded it.

The omega jumped sky high when a solid knock landed on his door. He gave a dissatisfied keen, a needy, begging invitation that sent a shot of arousal straight to his own cock at the idea of someone coming to make him feel good. Trying to keep his dignity as much as possible, Ori flipped onto his back, clenching the bedsheets up even further as he regarded Dwalin standing in his doorway.

“Ori,” Dwalin held out a hand, as though to calm and pacify the omega. Ori himself giggled (in a manner that will probably be thought back on as humiliating later) at the idea that he would be anything but happy in such a familiar, commanding alpha presence. “I’m gonna take you to the huts, ok?” Dwalin stopped himself from laying a comforting hand on the boy, knowing that, in reality, it would probably only serve to arouse both of them even more.

Ori barely restrained his unhappy groan, instead standing up from the bed, clasping the sheets around him and pulling them with him on his search for clothes.

 

Ered Luin was nothing if not accommodating to omegas; they boasted a wide settlement of indoor houses- colloquially dubbed “huts”- where the heated omegas with no alphas could go to. The huts were ventilated well enough that omegas would not be smothered with their own scents, but there was always the danger of attracting unwanted alpha attention, so the kingdom employed a host of beta dwarves to watch over the site and check in on the poor omegas.

Ori was never happy to go to the huts, he knew he should be very thankful that there was a place so accommodating for him to stay in, but he’d heard enough horror stories of omegas being left alone too long without being checked on, and they’d dehydrated themselves to dangerous levels, or touched themselves with so much desperation that they wound up injured enough to warrant emergency surgeries, stitches. Ori already felt oddly unwell going into this heat and Mahal knows he didn’t want to push it; he just wished that Mister Dwalin would stick around with him and give his own special kind of… assistance.

The walk through the city streets was just as terrifying as it always was, Ori had received two lustful grins before he’d even been off his own property. It was with a slight growl that Dwalin shrugged off his own coat and laid it around the lad’s shoulders, hopefully it would be enough to drive off the worst of the harassment, though he laid a possessive arm around Ori, silently marking a claim on him for his own protection.

The cobbled road was uneven, and Ori’s head was fogged, felt like it was running at the slowest possible capacity, every sensor in his mind thoroughly clogged with the surrounding scent of Mister Dwalin. Ori allowed one hand to clasp in the coat, as though he needed to be physically anchored to something solid, lest he lose touch with reality. His free hand swung beside him as normal, Ori thought nothing of it, until he allowed it to lag back on a swing a bit too much, lightly brushing against Dwalin’s crotch. It was as though his world narrowed to that one, infinitesimally small point of contact for the fraction of a second before he whipped his hand back as though he had been burned. He knew Dwalin’s help was nothing more than friendly concern, and that anybody who had found him in his heated state should feel obligated to help him to assist him to the huts, but he couldn’t help but hope that the bulge Ori had felt had more to do with him as a person, and less to do with the ceaseless pheromones he was outputting.

 

The helpful beta man at the check-in desk of the omega settlement assisted Ori behind the counter immediately after he’d spotted the pair; he shot Dwalin a thankful nod for his help getting the younger man here, though it was his job to keep people away from heated omegas, Dwalin understood. The man, Siror, he told Ori, found the lad’s name in the book of known town omegas, nodding a little uncertainly when he noticed Ori wasn’t due for another heat for another fortnight at least. Ori provided some identification and Siror nodded, cycles were strange things and Ori was certainly a tiny dwarf, his hormones likely not sure how to interact with his weaker body; the beta showed him through the door to the pathway to his home for the next few days.

Dwalin had waved goodbye and taken three steps out the door before he realised he’d forgotten to get his coat back. With a mental shrug, he continued on his way home, at least Ori might be able to get some extra comfort with the familiar scent.

 

Ori sat on his bed, his helpful beta attendant bidding him farewell, but warning him that staff will be checking on him twice as often as usual, due to the strange nature of his off-kilter cycle. Ori could only feel ease with this news, definitely relief, he was glad to be in safe hands.

He bit his lip and shrugged off Dwalin’s coat, laying it across his pillows and resting his face against it; the fabric was scratchy against Ori’s heightenedly sensitive skin, though he hardly cared, for the thick scent of absolute alpha was like a kick in his gut. His insides were cramping more severely than normal, but the constant, hot, teasing pressure in his groin helped him to ignore it for now.

It wasn’t the first heat where Ori had entertained thoughts of an alpha he knew from real life; he remembers one heat, waiting for Dori to escort him to the huts, when Nori had brought some of his gambling buddies into the house. A weasley-looking alpha had given him a wicked smile that looked of pure sin, and Ori had spent the rest of the day, in the hut, teasing his soaked rim to the thought of the nameless grin. He hadn’t, however, allowed himself to think of Mister Dwalin before- in heat or otherwise. Sure, the thoughts had sat in the edges of his mind, and he’d come so close to indulging them almost countless times, but this was an alpha he saw every work day, his boss’ younger brother! There was no way he’d let himself find his pleasure to that particular alpha, he’d surely be unable to look him in the eye ever again.

Though it was inescapable with his nose buried in the worn fabric, infused so deeply with the scent of Dwalin that it must have been worn very often. For an absurd moment, Ori felt guilty over kidnapping, what was likely, the alpha’s favourite coat. The feeling lasted for only a brief second, for a moment later, his cock gave an almost painfully throb within his breeches. It was with an extreme amount of resignation that Ori pulled his face from the coat, reassuring himself that it would still be there by the time he’d finished removing all of his clothes. Propping himself off the bed, he first shrugged off his own coat, followed quickly by his tunic and his shirt. He’d barely gotten the fly on his trousers undone when his cock gave a strong enough throb that Ori couldn’t stop the high, desperate keening noise from escaping his throat. He threw himself back onto the bed, face-down into Dwalin’s coat, and snaked a hand down to give his cock a firm squeeze around the base, almost threatening it to behave for long enough for him to rid himself of the rest of his clothes.

His favourite position in heat was on his stomach with his hips canted in the air; he had the space below him to reach under and play with his smooth, over-eager cock, it satisfied his desire to present himself for an imaginary alpha- in this case, he could picture Mister Dwalin standing at the foot of his bed, watching Ori please himself, palming himself through his pants with a hiss of pleasure- and he could easily access his hole, fill it with his fingers that never really felt like enough.

The start of heat always got Ori excited, like the thought of going to sleep after a long day; he knew that he had pleasure waiting for him to take it, that soon he would feel relief for an extended period of time. As he began stroking his cock for the first time in this cycle, ignoring the gradually worsening heat cramps, he allowed his jaw to fall slack, his mouth open to gasp for air, planning out in his mind all the fun ways he could (and would) bring himself to completion over the next few days; though he made a note to ask the next attendant who checked on him for a pain relieving poultice.

He could feel his end coming quickly, as to be expected so early into the heat, though his mind grew fuzzy, as it only ever had when leading up to some of the best orgasms he’d ever had. He’d felt it the first time he’d managed a small wooden toy up into himself, the time when he had been reading dirty literature and teasing himself for hours before he finally came, but god knows it didn’t suit an uninteresting, simple tug of his cock that lasted for all of 2 minutes. Either way, the pressure was building and Ori’s mouth hung open, panting like a good omega for the invisible Mister Dwalin, like his instincts told him. He decided to embrace the strangely powerful orgasm that seemed to be building inside of him; his hand slipped faster over his obscenely wet cock, dripping with need and adorably smooth, a cock for an omega to be proud of.

His whines became higher and higher, eventually he could only manage to punch out pitiful squeaks, his muscles drew tense upon themselves and the feeling coiling in his lower stomach all but erupted when he came. Ori threw his head back with the force of his orgasm, immediately regretting it, and shoving his face back in to fill his nose with Dwalin’s scent again, muffling his near-screams while he came streak after streak across the bedsheet, a surprising amount.

Ori allowed himself to collapse forward into the mess, the extreme of the orgasm leaving his body tingling a little, all but for his insides, still cramping terribly, and his eyes, now growing sleepy. It was pretty intense, and he didn’t feel the immediate need to cum again, oddly enough, and so he allowed himself a brief moment of rest, face buried in the comforting scent of Mister Dwalin, happy to have the thought of him there as Ori’s exhausted body let itself fall asleep.

*

The beta worker that had found Ori, 9 hours after his admission, heavily asleep, was luckily one of the trained doctors the settlement employed. He had been worried about the young lad and was determined to check up on Ori himself. Thank god he had, for the beta man knew exactly what to look for; the slow, barely notable rise and fall of his chest with each dangerously weak breath, the smell of his scent was almost gone, too weak to be detected. Stepping closer and placing a hand on the young man’s forehead, Ori had reached a worrying fever, and didn’t seem to be waking up. The beta man ran to the door and called for help, he needed to get the lad medical attention.

*

Ori drifted in and out of consciousness confusedly, he was aware of nothing but the familiar voices around him, and it was comforting. His altered mind didn’t think to question his safety as soon as he placed the voices of his brothers, Oin, who was Dori’s doctor friend that had taken care of Ori ever since he was little, and Balin and Dwalin. He didn’t know what was happening and he couldn’t feel most of his body, but he knew he was in good hands.

 

When he awoke clear-headed for the first time, he nearly sprang up from the tabletop he found himself resting on, but the dizziness in his head brought him right back down, hitting the table with a rude amount of force. In a moment, Mister Dwalin was at his side, looking sleep deprived and worried in general.

“M….Mmm” Ori tried to work out the alpha’s name (and the title that Ori added in respect to the captain of the guards’ high standing), but he found his mouth unwilling to cooperate. He was about to try again when a sudden pain hit his abdomen, stinging harshly as though he’d been stabbed with a dagger; he let out a pained cry and fell still, all the air leaving his lungs in one panicked breath.

Dwalin seemed to act in reflex, reaching for a jar on the ground, slicking his fingers with the creamy paste inside and rubbing it over the exact area of Ori’s stomach that hurt him. The cream was surprisingly hot as the alpha continued to work it in with his thick fingers, massaging the area.

Dwalin seemed to notice Ori’s confusion and explained, hand still working, “You got sick, real sick,” He paused to get more from the jar. “Oin says you’ll be ok and told us how to ease the pain if we saw you hurting. It’s my time to watch you, about 2am, everyone else is asleep.”

Ori could only nod in reply, slowly absorbing the information as he felt the sharp ache dull. Dwalin didn’t stop, he continued working the poultice into the omega’s skin with a surprising amount of care.

Ori chanced a look up at the older Dwarf, so focused on the motions of his hand, his eyes following his own fingers across Ori’s pale stomach. Ori was unaware where the light was coming from, but Dwalin stood in an almost angelic field of glowing, golden light; it seemed as though he had a halo around him, and Ori was transfixed. His kitchen no longer existed around them, they were in a place where nothing was real outside of the two of them, Ori seemed to accept these things as facts and he was contented to stare at the older dwarf forever.

The spell wasn’t broken until Dwalin removed his hand with a gruff nod, moving back to take up his chair again and care absently for his axe, busy work. Ori had to take a moment to come back to reality, his cheeks flushing, his mind still in the magical headspace Dwalin seemed to have taken him to. As the house once again materialised around them, Ori became critical of his sudden vision, almost immediately making the connection to all the literature he’d read on the subject, it matched the descriptions perfectly, though words could not communicate the warmth, security and happiness Ori had felt in those moments. But he was absolutely certain.

Ori had found his One.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, so there's some Ori/OC in here but it's kinda short and 100% just for the plot so like I'm not gonna put it in the ships but you've been warned!

The road to recovery is often a long, painful, and disappointing one, especially in such extreme cases of “over-heating”- as Oin had put it- in such a tiny omega. Dori had hunkered down with a month’s worth of salves, and the promise of more to come, ready to care for his poor, weakened baby brother. Even Nori had caught word and was popping in, leaving small contributions, what he could afford, to keep them in good coin while both of his siblings couldn’t work.

Dori had been in the kitchen, cooking up a brothy soup, steeling himself to spend an awful lot of time in the same setting, with the same company, when he heard the floorboards creak behind him. Dori let out a startled and worried shout, rushing to Ori’s side where he stood, completely of his own volition, in the doorway. Oin had come the moment Dori had called for him, and the healer had spent all afternoon standing in their living room, scratching his head in complete befuddlement at the omega before him- clearly in perfect health. It was with a shrug that he left them, urging Dori to not question a good thing, taking most of his salves with him.

It was another week of sitting around their house, reading, writing, getting- seemingly unnecessary- bedrest, Ori’s condition was still as good as ever, and the last of the healing salves had been administered when Dori suggested that the two of them return to work. He could tell that his brother’s scent was still dulled, even though it still clung to most of the house, and the beta figured that, if anything, it was a blessing; Ori didn’t need alphas sniffing him up in his recovering position.

 

Ori sat in the library at the Fundinsons’ house, waiting for his mentor to bring in the new array of tapestries he’d managed to procure from the museum archives. For the young dwarf, the past week or two had been nothing but stress and worry, he wondered how his body had even managed to recover with all that weighing down on it. Ori fiddled with his pen, ignoring the way the nib leaked ink over his knuckles, it would dry before he came to touch and study the ancient cloth, and the scribe looked at the vast walls of books, hiding their knowledge from him unless he were to pick them up and begin searching. Ori had spent his recent spell of down-time deep within all the books he could find within his own house about Ones, and he had learnt the basic etiquette.

You should not coerce your One into courting by revealing their supposed “Fate” to them; if they cannot choose you for themselves, both parties will forever be unsure of whether their love is true, or if it were forced by their will to obey the laws of Mahal.

Ori had blushed at all of the lovey-dovey talk, he’d only ever thought of Mister Dwalin as an attractive alpha prospect, as far as alphas go, with a certain... charmingly blunt personality. That being said, the omega couldn’t deny the attraction he’d felt before, though he’d hardly have called the alpha his soulmate.

And so Ori had looked into courting, and let’s just say that, perhaps old courting methods should stay in the past. All of Ori’s old copies of tomes and encyclopaedias that are older than any living dwarf had suggested the best method of courting was to wait for an alpha to hit him over the head and drag him off to become his new “wife”.

Ori had absolutely no interest in being hit on the head or becoming a wife.

So it was with great trepidation that the omega watched as Balin set down the lengthy scroll across from him on the grand table, immediately noticing the boy’s discomfort.

“Are you alright lad?” The beta’s concern filled both his face and his scent, the neutral scent invading Ori’s senses and calming him noticeably. “Do you want me to get Dori? Or Oin?”

“No, Mister Balin, I’m quite alright, thank you.” The older dwarf’s scent was certainly doing a number on Ori’s nervousness, and he felt the silly little fit of anxiety ease; this was a dwarf he knew he could trust. “I do have an… irrelevant question, though.”

“Ah, I like questions, it means you’re learning!” Balin sat down with a warm smile that jostled his beard a little, “Ask away.”

“Well, I have been doing a lot of reading over the past week or so,” The look on Balin’s face let Ori know he wasn’t surprised by this admission. “About… Ones.” Alright, now he looks surprised. “And how to court them properly, without forcing them into it.”

It wasn’t hard for the beta to read between the lines of the statements, and find a few possible questions that Ori could be asking him.

“And you want more updated information? I know you got a lot of your books by copying them from in here, and god knows you wouldn’t want to use millennia-old courting techniques, right?” Balin paused and waited for Ori to nod his affirmation. “Well, I don’t know much beyond the really bare basics, I have yet to find my One.”

Balin’s own thought seemed to give him pause.

“Have you, lad?”

Ori only hesitated for a moment before he answered, launching into a half-nervous-half-excited explanation, “Yes. It was just as all of the vague old stories had told! It was like a golden field of light, and like nothing was real outside of… us.” Ori tried to remember more, tried to place words to intangible feelings and sensations; for the first time in his life, language was failing him. “It happened when… well I guess he didn’t really save me, but he helped save me, I suppose. And isn’t that just like the legends always say?”  
  
Ori cut his rant there, certain he could go on forever about what an exciting experience it had been to find his One, Balin looking upon him like the beta was two seconds away from taking notes of Ori’s recounting.

“Well… who is it?” Balin asked, immediately realising his error when Ori began to practically stare a hole into the tabletop. “If I may ask, that is.”

Ori licked his lips and steeled himself, unaware of how Balin would react to the final piece of news, though he’d known from the beginning that he would just have to finish the story if he chose to start it.

“It’s um…” Ori was nothing if not a very articulate and erudite young lad, so all of his pauses and stuttering gave Balin worry. “It’s Mister Dwalin.”

Ori had expected shock on the older man’s face, though it had come and gone so quickly that he could have easily missed it, were he not trying to gauge his exact reaction. Ori supposed that Balin’s reaction was definitely gauge-able, though the broad smile, lips still closed- as Balin was not one to smile with teeth- and the smirking eyes were somewhat worrying. The beta began nodding to Ori, only confusing the omega even more, the young lad wishing that his boss would say something.

“I like this.” Was all Balin offered, allowing a few seconds of silence before he began again. “Are you interested in courting my brother?”

Ori could only nod, happy that Balin had found this acceptable, though startled that it has gone down so easily.

“Is it only because of this One business?” Balin knew it was a loaded question, and he asked it with an apple-cheeked smile and a raised eyebrow.

Ori picked over his words carefully, aware that it would not be dignified to thirst after his boss’ brother… to his boss. “Mister Dwalin was not… disagreeable to me before this discovery.”

Balin’s form rocked lightly with laughter at the response, rolling his eyes a little at the hormone-filled twerps that all omegas and alpha seemed to be. “Well in that case, you have my blessing, and my best wishes, to go propose a courtship.” The omega looked at him uncertainly when he finished talking. “Would you like to borrow a sharpening stone?”

Ori was somewhat aware that most modern forms for courting proposals were to learn the other’s trade and to display it, or to care for their weapons. “Yes please! I’m sure Dori has enough old edged weapons lying around that I can practice on…”

That opened up a whole new line of possible questioning for Mister Balin to take, whether or not Dori knew, and approved of Ori’s new… interest. The omega was immensely grateful when Balin didn’t follow up on the idea, and instead just rose to fetch some nearly-new sharpening stones and cleaning cloths. Ori tucked them securely into his rucksack, he could almost feel the new weight, despite the bag sitting on the ground, and it was oddly comforting, allowing him to get his mind back onto work for the day.

 

It was almost midday by the time they reemerged, dragging their bleary eyes from the brushstrokes stained into the fabric, Balin brewing a cup of tea while Ori retrieved some biscuits from his own house, a few doors down.

Their civil conversation only lasted so long before Balin could tell that Ori’s mind was elsewhere, now that he didn’t have the near-endless runes to keep him from his own thoughts. The omega, unsurprisingly enough, was focused entirely on how to bring up the concept of courtship with Mister Dwalin; hell, for all the ideas he doesn’t have now, Ori may as well walk up to the older dwarf and offer to suck his cock, right off the bat, it’s more likely to work that sitting around in a  parlour, being too shy to try anything.

“Have you thought of preening?” Balin’s voice snapped Ori rather violently from his reverie. “Show off as an omega?”

Ori furrowed his brow at that; his middle may be soft, but he doesn’t have the wide, child-birthing hips of many of the other omegas. He may be clever, but the base imagine of the Perfect Omega is one that doesn’t think too hard or too frequently; he can knit, but a good omega could also clean, and sew, and cook-

“That’s it!” Ori exclaimed a little too suddenly, making his boss nearly spill his tea.

“I know, I’m a genius. You’re welcome.” Balin pretended to take credit for whatever idea the young lad was having.

“I’ve invited you to our solstice fest next week, right?” Ori elaborated, “It couldn’t do any harm to invite Mister Dwalin too; there will be plenty of guests, and more than enough food. Plus I get to show off my cooking prowess!”

Balin raised and eyebrow, nodding in agreement at the omega’s scheme; all he could hope was that the lad actually had cooking prowess to work with.

*

Dwalin was in love, in absolute _rapture._ He could swear he had never seen anything more beautiful, more delicious, more tantalizing in his entire life. His teeth itched and his mouth watered at the thought of just diving in and absolutely ravishing… the food that Ori had spread out over the table.

Taking his seat by his brother, Dwalin’s eyes flitted from dish, to bowl, to plate, to glass, to serving platter, taking in the sight of all the hearty, dwarven food. He could count at least five types of sausages, three kinds of bread- if you included that knotted bread… the… pretzels, Ori had called them-, and several different beasts. Dwalin felt both his stomach and his heart surge with _pride_ at the offering that the omega had put together for his guests, standing at the head of the table beside Dori as the older brother carved the first of many birds. Ori had a smattering of flour beside his nose and the alpha had the inexplicable urge to wipe it off for him, staring at the spot. He nearly jumped out of his seat when a barely-known neighbourhood person leaned over and cleaned the omega first.

Ori noticed every satisfied moan, every pleased grunt, every cheerful swallow that Dwalin made through the entire dinner; the omega knew it was some of his best work, and he was more than glad to serve it up to his possible future alpha.

The omega rose to go and tend to the last of the desserts that were about to be done baking, perhaps even pick up the worst of the kitchen mess a little, when he noticed Balin nudge Dwalin into following Ori into the kitchen.

“Why Mister Dwalin, how very thoughtful of you to come help me,” Ori teased, once they were shut in the kitchen, alone. He mindlessly tied his apron around his waist and bent over the oven to inspect the apple pies. “Whatever could have prompted this?”

Dwalin knew from the joking tone of Ori’s voice that the omega had noticed Balin send him in to help, though it wouldn’t stop him from lending a hand.

In this case, “lending a hand” seems to involve standing over the sink as it fills with hot water, sneaking gazes at Ori’s shapely behind as he shifted from foot to foot, working the hot trays out of the oven carefully; Dwalin could barely contain a positively _sinful_ growl when the omega arched his back, perhaps to try and get a better angle.

Ori was completely aware of Dwalin staring at his ass, the omega had caught a pretty clear reflection on the oven’s frame, and the alpha appeared to have dropped all pretenses and had begun positively gawking. It was near-impossible to keep the giggles to himself when he begun to swing his hips this way and that, miming difficulties in getting the desserts out of the oven. With a final arch to his spine that even he was proud of, he righted himself and shrugged off the oven mitts. The smell of sweet, flaky pastry and caramelised sugar filled the room, though Ori could still detect undertones of _pleased alpha_ , the air hanging heavily under the increased output of Dwalin’s personal type of musk; a smell Ori could only try to describe as “clean sweat and a roaring fire”.

*

Ori nodded his goodbye to Balin on his way down the corridor after work, offering little more than that, as they both knew they’d be seeing each other again tomorrow. The omega had had an extremely productive day, and the high from all the good work done sat lightly in his spine, straightening it out and giving him an air of pride about him. Just a few steps from the door, Ori heard displeased grunting coming from- what he recalls to be- the living room. Sat on the same couch on which they had done paperwork together, Dwalin had a frustrated frown sitting heavily on his brow, an axe of his on his lap. The alpha repeatedly ran a sharpening stone over the weapon, getting increasingly violent when he realised it was doing almost nothing. Ori watched as he examined the old-looking, beaten up stone, and ran a finger along the dulled blade, not drawing any blood.

“Mister Dwalin?” Ori stepped fully into the doorway, making sure he was seen. The effort that it took the alpha to fight the sour look off his face was evident, and Ori was silently cheering over Dwalin’s unwillingness to scowl at the omega. “Would you like- that is to say- may I sharpen that for you?”

 

Despite what some more academic dwarves- his brother, for example- may say about him, Dwalin isn’t an idiot, he isn’t illiterate, and he can articulate his thoughts pretty well, when he chooses to. And so when Ori’s offer shuts down most major thoughts in his mind, it is, actually, out of the ordinary. Dwalin has the good graces to keep his surprise down to a pair of very-raised eyebrows as he manually tries to kick his mind back into gear.

Ori is clever, he has a supposedly quick wit and a sharp tongue, he is good at his few crafts. Ori is not unattractive. That last one in particular is a fact that Dwalin knows, has known for a… long while. It is that thought that gives him pause. The problem with Ori is not that he is undesirable as an omega, quite the opposite. While he may not be conventionally stunning, there is an almost gravitational pull to the small lad, one that makes Dwalin want to listen to him talk for hours on end. And dear Mahal, what an _ass._ Dwalin’s eyes scan over Ori, and he sees, not the young adult standing before him, but the even younger omega that he had first met, had seen running around the streets, had begun to work with his brother. It made him sick to his stomach.

Sure, Ori’s facial hair had grown out, but it had barely lost any of the patchiness that it had held when he was a pubescent omega, just beginning to come into his own. His hair still sat in the funny fashion that Dwalin had grown used to, the one obviously cut by his _older brother_. Ori’s limbs had gotten longer, but not by much, they were just as tantalisingly long, and delicate. Dwalin wanted to grab his thin shoulders and lay a heavy kiss on the boy’s lips badly, just as badly as he had… years ago. And therein lies the issue. Dwalin has been noticing this poor omega for far too long to be guilt-free about courting him. Dwalin has been averting his gaze from Ori’s ass for a little too long.

His mind offered him the fact that Ori was a consenting adult now, one who was making his own choices, one who was actually taking the first step. Their age gap certainly wasn’t nothing, though. Their 70 year difference was 70% of the omega’s life. Dwalin was nearly twice his age. Ori had missed almost half of Dwalin’s lifetime.

Mahal, and when he had gotten sick during his last heat? Dwalin had never been more disgusted with himself. The omega was literally dying for a good portion of it. His scent had still hung around strong during his healing moments, and Dwalin had, to his absolute horror, been aroused during the time he’d spent in the same room as the boy. At least once, he’d caught himself rubbing his cock idly through his trousers, trying to relieve some of the tension, before he had whipped his hand back with a glare down at his traitorous lap. The extreme unease and self-loathing sat even heavier in the alpha’s gut, and his eyes fell to the floor, unable to even look at the poor lad.

With a gruff grunt, the alpha stood up, his eyes never leaving the floor. “I don’t think so lad.” Was the best he could offer. His gaze fell quickly to Ori’s face, registering the shame and sadness for the barest of seconds before he was retreating like a coward out the exit that the omega wasn’t blocking.

*

“Well, it’s not the end of the fucking world.” Ori mused, lying recumbent on his own bed, fully dressed and on top of the sheets, talking to his omega friend and neighbour, Gamis, as she lay beside him, the both of them staring at the ceiling. “I mean it hurt, but I wasn’t hopelessly in love with him or anything, just wanted to try courting.”

“Mmm” She offered as a reply, “And love can mean all kinds of things, you still see him every day, you could have like a platonic love going, like shield-brothers, but without the shields.”

“That’s a good point, it doesn’t break my heart to see him, or whatever dramatic things the books say, if anything, it makes me happy.”

“Well that’s good. I know I can’t wait until I meet my One, but love is pretty fucking broad and indefinable, it’s nice to have the wiggle room.”

“Romantic love is kinda played up, yeah?” Ori turned to her.

“Way too played up,” she shifted next to face him as well, laughing a little. “Life is meaningless and nothing is real.”

Ori giggled back, knowing her bleakness was just a joke. Their silence was companionable, but it hung heavy as their eyes locked, a hair’s breadth away.

Her scent was thicker than his, given she was a few days away from her heat, and he was still recovering. The smell of flowers and fresh air was all that he could smell, so strong it sat almost tangibly on his tongue.

They could not tell you who had leaned in first, because it wasn’t too far of a distance to close before their lips met, softly and gracefully. The both of them kissed like omegas, trying to please the other to the point where they could not notice the pleasure they were meant to be receiving. Without an alpha to tell them to let go, to let themselves feel good, all their instincts could tell them was to make their bed partner happy. They pulled apart and searched each other’s faces. A simple shrug, returned, told them both that neither of them thought anything more of their situation than a little bit of fun.

Their mouths met again, this time, their lips parted and Gamis let her hand run into Ori’s hair. Ori rolled to lean over her, pushing her very softly into the bed, showing off what little dominant nature he had in him, what little he had over this omega girl who was stockier than he was. His hips rocked tentatively down against hers and she parted her legs to wrap around his waist, encouraging him to continue. He felt himself grow half-hard in his pants, felt the base of his spine begin to tingle, knew he’d be growing wet soon. She led his hand to her chest, squeezing her tit around his hand, letting out a soft omegan purr. The noises she made as he ran his nimble fingers over her chest nearly muted the solid knocking of the door downstairs. Apologetically, he pulled himself back, knowing that Dori wasn’t home, and he therefore had to get it.

On the way down the stairs, he thought of awkward things, trying to will away his erection. He knew nothing could be done about the barest of slick he had produced, but answering the door with a tent in his pants was probably frowned upon.

 

Dwalin stood with Thorin outside of Dori, Nori, and Ori’s door, shifting his weight between either foot far too often. He hadn’t given Ori more than a friendly nod since the courting proposal, but the young lad seemed happy to remain.. whatever they were before. Friends, probably, if anything.

When the door opened, the first thing Dwalin registered was a decent whiff of two aroused omegas. His eyes fell on Ori, who bowed to Thorin beside him. The boy had his own scent intensified- though not as much as it had been during his heat, Dwalin recalls- mingling with another scent, undoubtedly another aroused omega, one he recognised vaguely to be the girl a few doors down from him.

“What can I do for you, your majesty?” Ori broke the silence, gesturing for them to come inside.

Dwalin growled lightly at the offending scent of flowers. Thorin bluntly smacked him upside the head, moving to follow their new host.

After Ori had politely shown out Gamis, they sat down to tea, and they discussed the details of Thorin’s quest to reclaim Erebor, Ori got the details of a bar in which a full-group meeting would be taking place that evening. The omega assured Thorin that Dori would be just as enthused as he was, Nori as well, though he was currently unable to contact him.

Dwalin rumbled a laugh, but stayed quiet. Thorin filled him in, they had Nori in a holding cell for a robbery he committed last week.

*

Ori had ridden a pony before, he’d learned as a child, long ago, back when Dori had to help him into the saddle. This time, Dori had once again tried to help him into the saddle, and Ori had refused, instead using the foothold on the saddle with little difficulty. He hoped Dori’s mothering would calm down during this trip. The beta was nothing if not fashionable, a dandy who takes too much pride in his hair. Ori supposes that Dori’s attention will be spent there, instead, once they’d have gone a few days without bathing.

Balin headed their small pack in the early dawn, the group consisting of just the Ri brothers and the Fundinsons- Thorin had been hesitant to travel out of Ered Luin in a big group, lest they attract too much attention. Ori knew that what they were doing wasn’t _technically_ opposed by the rule, or by the people, but the lack of interest was discouraging enough that no one wanted to risk finding out if others were willing to stop them. Balin held the map over the neck of his pony as they started a lazy walk in the right general direction; once they were certain of the route, the sped up to a comfortable gallop, knowing the others would be soon behind to meet them in the Shire.

 

 

Dwalin sat easily in his saddle, his strong legs holding him just fine against the constant rocking of the beast below him. His eyes scanned the hills around them and behind them, he brought up the rear of their little pack, responsible for spotting any possible danger.

He let his eyes scan over the four people in front of him. They rode two abreast, Dori and Balin discussing the Shire’s people and its customs, Nori and Ori staying quiet behind them, idly listening. Dwalin, curse his awful habits, allowed his gaze to fall on Ori’s ass, as it often did- much to his distaste. He was given pause when he saw how it rhythmically rose from the saddle, only to smack back down on the seat. Every few movements, there was one that was clumsy, and Ori came down a bit harder than normal. Dwalin found his hands itching to grab the lad’s thin waist and to guide him into a better rocking rhythm, make the ride easier on the omega’s legs and his fine ass. Dwalin realised with a bad taste in his mouth that he had been thinking of the boy as if he was riding an alpha, not a pony. His eyes fell back to the landscape, scanning every hill, every possible movement in the distance, though every time they fell back forward, Dwalin could not help but steal peeks at Ori’s ass.

As the sun broke over one of the mountains, he could hear Balin calling back his encouragements.

“We’re making good time! At this rate, we’ll only be riding until dusk!”

Dwalin again looked forward, trying and failing to ignore the constant slapping of Ori’s riding. Dwalin knew he was in a special kind of hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Casually throws in some Bilbo/Thorin because I am a wreck and this is so necessary to me apparently.*
> 
> I don't even know what to say about this chapter but ayyyyy here u go

“Kili,”

“and Fili,”

“At your service.”

The pair bowed before Ori, hesitating, watching him, as though waiting for something.

“Ori, at yours.” The omega offered with a bow, straightening back up after a reasonable amount of time, confused when the two brothers remained on their knees.

“They’re waiting for you to offer your hands,” Dori helpfully whispered, he himself was a prim dandy, much more used to the socialising of upper class dwarves than Ori was.

The omega extended both of his hands out to the brothers, who took them almost in sync. Kili, with a bashful smile and shy blush to his cheeks, offered but one soft kiss to the back of Ori’s hand, standing rigidly, and Ori was suddenly aware of just how young and awkward this boy was.

Fili, however, was firmer with his greetings, the warm lips resting for a fraction of a second too long on Ori’s hand, and, to the omega’s surprise, rose steadily up his arm, all while the prince maintained constant eye contact. By the time his lips had reached Ori’s elbow-length sleeves, the boy stopped climbing, though he lingered and pressed his lips against the pale skin a few more times, all while the tips of his fingers played very slightly higher, teasing under the hem of the sleeve.

When Fili finally withdrew with a wink and returned to tend to his pony, Ori turned to Dori, once again confused.

“Will they not be greeting you lot like that?”

“I should hope not,” Dori said with an almost-dignified snort. “All the royals greet important omegas that way, it’s a kind of scenting. I’d say you should be flattered, it’s not every day that a prince does it quite that… thoroughly.”

Ori didn’t even know what to make of that, he just returned to his own pony to run a hand gently across its mane, and shuck the saddlebags on it again. Their original group had made fantastic time and stopped for lunch when they had seen the other small party- Kili, Fili, and Thorin- approach them from the general direction of Ered Luin. Safely outside of the mountain, the group of them were happy to travel together, and they finished lunch in a timely manner and were eager to continue moving.

Ori was tightening the last of the straps, bent down slightly to reach the horse’s underside, when he felt the beast shift slightly. With a gaze up, he noticed Fili leaning against the pony, watching Ori work, arms crossed with a smirk.

“Though I have to say it’s great to have you here, it’s a sure shame to have an omega like you riding horseback.” Fili’s words were unnaturally smooth.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Ori’s words came out a little strained as he struggled to clip in the last of the buckles with the pony swaying a little under Fili’s weight.

“Why, it’s probably the least fun way to bruise up such a fine ass…” The words were punctuated by a hard hand laying itself softly over the curve of Ori’s behind.

With no thought to it, Ori straightened with a high-pitched yelp and his fist connected with Fili’s nose so hard that the alpha fell over, clutching hard at his, now bleeding, face.

Ori stood cradling his stinging hand, frowning down at Fili; the omega was unrepentant, but knowing there would likely be consequences for  _punching the crown prince of Erebor in the fucking nose._ Looking to his companions for help, he saw Nori, also on the ground, rolling with hysterical laughter, Dori and Balin seemed to be hiding their chuckling poorly, Thorin shook his head at his nephew, who was now being helped up by Kili.

Dwalin, whose regular stoic demeanour had rarely been broken, stood with a grin so wide, Ori was almost worried the alpha would split his face open.

Ori mounted his horse, walking it over to where Dori has begun to do the same, “I don’t think I feel all that flattered.”

~

Fili sat on his pony, nursing his poor, swollen nose; trying not to touch it too hard with the uneven rocking motions of his moving horse. Ori rolled his eyes at the scene and pulled his own pony back, trotting beside the blond alpha.

“I’m sorry I punched you so hard, a solid slap was probably all that was due,” The omega was alright with extending the olive branch first; so long as Fili behaved himself better, they could enjoy a decent adventure. “You did startle me a little, though.”

“No, I think I’ve understood,” Fili looked genuinely rueful. “Flirting with socialite omegas back in Ered Luin was encouraged, my advisors said that people liking me could only be a good thing. Plus it was fun.”

Ori raised an eyebrow, a slight sneer settled onto his face. “Yeah, well, we’re not in Ered Luin surrounded by ‘high society’ people anymore; there is going to be significantly less thirst for your royal cock.”

Fili grinned at the harsh cuss that ended Ori’s sentence, not at all desensitised to a omega being anything but prim and proper.

“I assure you though,” the alpha allowed his voice to slip into a low, crooning tone again. “I don’t flirt with every omega like that.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Ori’s laugh was near enough to a snort. “Even if I believed you, I told you I wasn’t interested in your attention.”

“Oh, I’m not allowed to flirt with you at all? I promise, I won’t lay another hand on you, unless you ask for it.” Fili winked, and raised his right hand, wobbling a little on his pony, “Hand to Mahal.”

“You’re lucky I enjoy banter,” Ori kicked his pony in the sides, urging it to go faster, back to travel alongside Dori again. “I won’t hesitate to punch you again.”

**  
**

Dwalin’s mood had gone south remarkably quickly; he himself was unaware of just how little it took to get him from being generally chuffed, to being positively seething. He sat in the hobbit’s hole, at the dining table, waiting for the rest of the party to show up. Currently, their small group was all who had arrived, minus Thorin. He had left to find Gandalf for a private word, before the dwarven chaos.

Dwalin hid his downturned mouth behind his mug of ale, miming taking a sip, his eyes vaguely trained on where Ori, Kili, and Fili sat giggling to each other. Even his not-so-keen eyes didn’t miss just how much closer Fili sat to Ori than to his own brother, nor could he ignore the flirty looks, the smooth tone, or the dirty jokes. (Had Dwalin been keener, he’d have noticed that Ori was doing a very good job of ignoring the advances.)

The older alpha seemed to constantly be on the very edge of growling across the table at them, fully aware that he cannot police Ori’s life, especially considering he was given a chance, one he’d turned down. And yet, Ori still felt like His Omega.

~

Bilbo Baggins; Boring old Beta Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. Not the most glowing review he’d ever received, but it seemed to be the one which had stuck to him. Hell, it was probably right on the money; Bilbo knew he wasn’t as attractive or intriguing as all the alphas and omegas that lived up and down the nearby hillsides, he’d figured out long ago that his scent wasn’t anything to write home about either.

All of a sudden, Boring-Beta-Bilbo was feeling notably less boring, his house half-filled with dwarves, and getting more and more crowded every minute. Gandalf stood tall over the crowd and seemed to be counting them, almost like a school teacher leading young Shirelings out for an expedition to the fields during classes.

**  
**

Thorin’s legs ached dully as he pulled himself up the slanted path to- what he hoped was- the correct door. He was too busy criticising himself, his weakness this early in the journey, that he almost missed the hidden rune on the big green door. His long hair was drenched with sweat from his pointless laps around the darkened little village; without the help of a young farmer, there was no way he could have hoped to actually find the correct place.

Thorin knew he should tone down his scowl, that he shouldn’t meet such an important new member of his company while presenting himself like this. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils and began to try and count to 10. The alpha got as far as 4 before his chest had lightened and his eyelids felt droopy. He knew this feeling, it was the feeling he got around betas, expect much more effective, much more fruitful. As he raised a fist to knock solidly on the door, it registered in his mind that he probably didn’t look the part of the dignified leader. Hiis sleepy smile fought for control over his face as he tried to settle it into a proper, emotionless slate.

It was known immediately that the little creature who opened the door for him was the source of the scent. Thorin stood silently for a moment, stock still, taking inventory of this hobbit. The alpha had known scents to be intoxicating before, alluring, comforting, but the smell coming off this beta could not be labelled with such words. It was more than an appeal to act, it was a settling feeling, an emotion. He thought how good it would feel to return to his sister, with her sons, safe. He thought of reclaiming Erebor, full of dragon stench, but still _theirs_ , not perfect, but close enough. It was made apparent that these things were all he had wanted for a long time, and the way this beta, this hobbit, made him feel… it felt exactly like he had accomplished everything he needed to, he felt fulfilled, satisfied, completed.

The hobbit himself seemed young for his race, not as childlike as some other members of the company, but not even close to the king, his black hair shocked with streaks of silver. The beta had a worried look settled so deeply on his brow that Thorin felt himself mirroring it for a fraction of a second. It registered in Thorin’s mind that he’d have to give his men a good talking to if they’d made their host so worried.

His men.

The company.

It all came flooding back to Thorin about a half-second before Gandalf cleared his throat in greeting.

Thorin had forgotten about their companions, wrapped up in the deep scent of his new burglar, unaware of anything that happened outside of them.

The fact that everyone had only just started to rise from their seats to greet him told Thorin that the overwhelming rush of…. whatever that was… had happened in a space of time so small that he didn’t have a name for it.

It was nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from their hobbit. It felt like there was an undeniable physical force holding his gaze on him. It felt like when he forgot to use enough oil on his smithing punch and the copper had stuck with enough desperation that he had to scrap both the tool and the metal.

The first face he landed on was Gandalf, who was apparently asking him how his trip had been.

“Got lost, four times.” The answer was gruff and it made him cringe a little. “And this must be our burglar?”

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service.” The hobbit offered.

Thorin rolled the name over in his mind, knowing it would roll even nicer off his tongue. A nice alliteration. Beautiful Beta Bilbo Baggins.

“Thorin Oakenshield, at yours.”

 **  
**  


Bilbo Baggins was an absolute menace, Thorin decided, sat at the hobbit’s dining table, speaking with his men about their journey to come. The alpha could not, for all his efforts, get his spirits up, get his blood boiling to motivate his company about their quest. He knew, of course, that it was the calming effects of the nervous beta who sat beside him. And so the king settled for theatrical broodiness that he didn’t feel at all, the warm scent clouding into his mind and heating him to his very core.

It did the job, and the men were cheering once again, waving their pints around above their heads, somehow, miraculously, avoiding any major spillages. Thorin took this moment to excuse himself to the restroom.

He splashed his face over the porcelain basin, the fresh water mingling with his filthy sweat and running into his mouth. He couldn’t muster up the disgust to care. The air in this little room smelt only vaguely of their host, of twitchy Master Baggins who seemed nothing but unwilling to join their quest. Without thinking, Thorin grabbed the face washcloth off the counter- the fabric clean and obviously untouched by any of the dwarves yet- he brought it to his face, and with a long sniff, knew that Bilbo’s scent was deeply ingrained in the woven fabric. He shoved it in his pocket and left the restroom. Who knew if the hobbit was actually going to accompany them? God knows Thorin would sooner kidnap the beta before he left such an effective scent behind. Perhaps the cloth memento will be enough.

Halfway down the corridor, back to the dining room, Thorin felt his chest tighten. His heart raced, his palms sweat, and his gut wrenched with such an intensity that he was nearly sick right there on the floor. Thorin had only felt this way a few times in his life, he knew it well, though, he was having a panic attack. Thorin had no idea why, but he did know that it was making it harder and harder for him to breathe, he stumbled his way down the rest of the hallway, back to his men, in hopes of finding help.

Emerging into the cluster of dwarves, he spotted Bilbo, passed out, on the ground. Everything cleared from him, his mind could suddenly comprehend the entire situation, and he moved to the beta’s side with more speed and dexterity than he’d seen himself display in such a long time.

As he grabbed the dampened rag that someone- Balin, he noted- offered him, he pressed it to different parts of the hobbit’s face, and all the disorienting feelings seemed to melt away, all but the gut-clenching worry that made him feel so very sick.

The room was silent around him, and Bilbo opened his eyes slowly. From the very first peek of the deep hazel, Thorin’s worry melted away, the fist that clenched his gut loosened its hold, and he recognised the flood of Bilbo’s regular scent began to flow from him again. Thorin had not realised how much he’d missed the warm-fresh-bread-in-a-bakery smell until it had shaken off the sourness of worry that had apparently caused the beta to collapse.

The room remained every-quiet around them, Thorin did not question it; he slowly dropped the damp cloth from Bilbo’s forehead to rest it on his plump cheek, almost cradling his face. Up so close, the king could see every little detail that he’d initially skimmed over. Bilbo’s uneven little nose that twitched every so often. The lad’s pink lips, plumper and much more kissable than any Thorin had seen this close before. The way the hobbit’s blond-brown hair turned to pure gold in the shining light. The way his eyes twinkled under his own little halo of brilliant luminescence.

A broad hand resting on his shoulder jerked Thorin violently from his reverie, and, when he looked back at the hobbit, he realised there was no intense light shining upon the hobbit, bringing out his natural radiance. Thorin was once again gruff as he stood slowly, helping Bilbo to his feet.

Thorin could guess all too well what had just happened.

~

Ori sat on Bilbo’s porch, holding his hands up, framing The Shire in the moonlight, trying to find the best possible picture to sketch roughly in his notebook before he returned inside and went to sleep with the others. He could hear them inside, shuffling about, much quieter than before, arguing softly about where each person would sleep.

It didn’t startle him when the big green door opened and soft footsteps approached him from behind. The nameless figure sat down beside him, and Ori knew it was Fili by the gruff sigh he let out.

“So, I know I’m not exactly a prince out here,” Fili started, “But I like to think of myself as a handsome enough young alpha.”

“Fair enough.” Ori offered, his pen finding paper finally, his initial strokes soft chicken-scratches, just trying to find the right places to put the lines.

“So I just want a little closure, yeah?” Fili fidgeted beside him. “You’re not at all interested in my coc- attention?”

Ori snorted at the attempt to remain civil. “No, I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Is there a… reason why?” Fili was now trying to sneak peeks at Ori’s drawing, and at Ori’s reaction.

The omega let out a great breath and shut his book, placing it beside him and turning his body so that he was better facing Fili.

“Fili, I’m sure you’re a lovely alpha, but I’ve…. I’ve found my One.” His voice dropped below a whisper for the last part, not wanting the knowledge to spread.

“What?!” Fili whisper-shouted before he could calm himself down and continue. “But you don’t smell taken! And you haven’t uh,” He gestured at Ori’s neck, obviously miming the idea of a bite mark that couples shared when they were well and truly mated.

“He… he rejected my courting request.” Ori’s statement made Fili’s eyes all but bug out of his head. “But we are still good friends, and it makes me more than happy just to be around him platonically. Someday I might be ready to court someone else, or perhaps he will become interested in me, who knows? But for now, I’m not ready or comfortable with the idea of courting someone else.”

Fili nodded.

“Especially with him around.” Ori added the last part so lowly that Fili thought he’d misheard.

“Wait, are you saying he’s…” He gestured to the house behind him. “In our company?”

Ori nodded and looked down at his lap, fighting off a blush, not sure if he could trust the young alpha enough to tell him who it was.

“Please god tell me it’s one of the less ugly guys.”

Ori spat out a laugh so suddenly and so loudly that it shocked even him, as it echoed around the hilly countryside in the dead quiet of the night.

“It’s not a laughing matter, Ori!” Fili said, though laughing himself. “Honestly, some of those guys are old and unappealing and _Bifur literally has an axe sticking out of his fucking head Ori do you truly find that attractive.”_

“It’s uh…” Ori hesitated, the situation reminding him all too much of when he told Balin. “It’s Mister Dwalin.”

Fili tilted his head from side to side, weighing up the older alpha in his mind. “Well, he’s not the least attractive, so I’ll give you that.”

“I’m so very glad you approve of my One.” Ori’s voice dripped in sarcasm. “I suppose it goes without saying that if you tell anyone- and yes, that includes Kili- then I will likely tear off your knot and feed it to some Wargs.”

“Fair enough.” Fili nodded slowly. “So he really turned you down? Like, not to press on a sore spot, but _he_ , Mister old-and-grumpy-head-of-the-guard Dwalin, rejected _you_ , little best-ass-this-side-of-Ered-Luin Ori? Was he like… drunk?”

Ori covered his giggles with a single hand, blushing a little at the praise. “I don’t know, have you seen his muscles? Pretty appealing alpha right there.” Ori showed off his own guns, flexing his underwhelming biceps to truly make his point.

“I am not going to become your isn’t-that-alpha-so-cute best friend.” Fili groaned. “I’m still an alpha! I like omegas! And slick!” This seemed to give him pause for a moment. “So can I still flirt with you, or..?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ori giggled again. “I like the banter, remember?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say about this is that Thorin's little punch-tool-with-copper is 110% true. I do this for a living and like jfc if you don't use enough WD40 on that shit then good fucking luck getting it to let go.
> 
> updates are whenever so like see you in 5 years l o l


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i dont even know what happened here, I just casually dropped like 8327486129047 plot into this one chapter /shrugs
> 
> Content warning: mild dysphoria, sexy times, people dying
> 
>  
> 
> (Also I casually took like an entire paragraph out of the end of chapter three so i could alter canon lol i am trash this is 100% for my own amusement)

Bilbo’s blunt teeth bit lightly into his bottom lip, dimpling the flesh just a little as he squirmed on top of his bedsheets under the firm, commanding presence of the alpha above him. He didn’t even try to stop the most pitiful mewl from escaping his mouth, hoping it would please the dark figure. All he wanted to do was please his alpha.

 

Thorin.

 

His mind barely registered the name.

 

It fit the scent, the one that filled Bilbo’s head like a raunchy fire that shot down his spine, lighting every single nerve along the way and pooling between his legs where he could feel slick pouring like he was an overflowing riverbed. He knew his body was driven by his age-old instincts to continue like this, so he allowed all of his mental power to focus on the dwarf that hovered over him.

 

Thorin was beyond an exemplar of the alpha dream. A real pedigree. Sweet Eru, he probably has a knot that would make the biggest, wildest wolves jealous.

 

“My sweet Bilbo.” Thorin’s voice sounded off; it was too ragged, and not as worn as Bilbo remembered. “You’re so very good for me.”

 

“Thorin?” Came the whimpered reply, for he couldn’t manage much more.

 

“You are beyond beautiful. Your hair is the colour of spun gold so perfect I’ve not seen it anywhere else.” The alpha’s thick fingers stroked fleetingly through Bilbo’s hair, slipping through to caress the hobbit’s face and neck as gently as the calloused skin could. “Your body may be hairless and delicate, but it suits you, it’s all the better to wrap you up in my arms until time dares to tear us apart.”

 

“Thorin,” Bilbo spoke reverently now, awed at the eloquent words, the likes of which he had never heard spoken about him. He fought his own submissive instincts and brought his hands up to weave through Thorin’s beard.

 

“Shhh, I’ll be kind to you, I can’t imagine any other way. I’ll touch you softly and I’ll speak words to you so sweet they will rival how syrupy your tongue tastes against mine.” Thorin’s mouth proceeded down Bilbo’s pale chest with feather-light tickling kisses. “Allow me to show you what it’s like to be completely worshipped.”

 

The breath that rushed out of Bilbo’s lugs was beyond shaky as Thorin’s lips dragged over the skin exposed above the waistband of his trousers. The hobbit’s hands brushed ever-so-gently through the dwarf’s thick hair, the silver strands catching the candlelight by the bedside and making Bilbo smile. This older, worldlier alpha had chosen him, Bilbo Baggins, to take to bed.

 

Bilbo could feel his cock throb, and his undergarments soak through as Thorin undid the few buttons of his trousers. Unable to tear his eyes away, Bilbo watched helplessly as the alpha licked his lips and gave a devilish grin, removing his trousers and underclothes in one movement, immediately driving in to nuzzle between the crook of his leg. The hobbit watched as his lover began panting obviously, breathing heavily against his sensitive skin, taking the deep breaths in through his nose, shuddering at, what Bilbo assumed to be, the overwhelming smell of his slick.

 

“You are divine. You smell like nothing of this world. I cannot possibly resist.” Thorin’s vocabulary and sentence structure seemed to leave him all at once, and he threw Bilbo’s legs over his shoulders so suddenly that the hobbit couldn’t help but yelp softly, the noise lost in the quiet bedroom.

 

From between his legs, Thorin sent him the most ravenous look Bilbo had ever seen; the hobbit couldn’t imagine even a starving man at a feast to look anything close to the alpha now.

 

“My queen,” The words were panted from between the alpha’s lips, his eyes now locked on Bilbo’s hole as though he were physically being pulled towards it. “My beautiful omega.”

  
  


 

Bilbo shot up in his bed with a gasp that didn’t fill his lungs nearly enough.

 

His cheeks burned hot, though there was no one around to witness his embarrassing state. Sat upright under his own covers, his hair pointed in all directions, staring into the pitch darkness of the night as though he’d be able to explain it away if he found a visible answer.

 

His cock began to soften within his flannel pajamas, no longer driven by his insatiable, imaginary ‘omega’ instincts. His hole ached to be filled in a way that was all too familiar to the beta, and he knew that, should he check, it would be bone dry. As always. As nature had intended for him.

 

So used to the feeling of waking up from these kinds of dreams, he climbed out of bed to go through the motions of his routine.

 

Boring Beta Bilbo Baggins knew he wasn’t an omega. He didn’t feel like one during his waking hours, or even in most of his unconscious moments. Hell, Bilbo didn’t even want to be an omega. He may not be perfectly contented with his lot in the dynamic, but wanting, pretending to be something else just didn’t sit right within him.

 

His dreams though, they got away from him. In the presence of a new, strong, overpowering alpha, he found himself projecting his dream persona as the perfect, simpering omega. Likewise, should a tasty little omega wander into his life and catch his fancy, he spent his resting hours thinking of knotting them, breeding them so deeply that they caught with his young immediately.

 

Bilbo lit a candle, it had melted down to a nub, as he entered his bathroom. Stood before his polished glass mirror, he filled a cup from the fresh water basin. Taking a long sip, he stared at his reflection, going through the motions of getting to know himself again, making himself as comfortable as possible. A dull hunger in his stomach didn’t demand his attention, but he liked to keep himself as satisfied as possible in these moments, lest he regress and dwell on the dream; he tended to become removed and disaffected, apathetic for most of the following day, and that didn’t do anyone any good. So he left the room to search for any remaining food, banishing all thoughts of Thorin Oakenshield from his mind.

  


Thorin perked up the moment he smelt Bilbo coming down the hallway, almost visibly breaking him out of his brooding- which had been partially for show and partially over the possible loss of his… his One.

 

The alpha could smell the usually calming scent had become scarred and affected, both tempting and distressing, and it clicked within him that the beta had been aroused, and that something had soured it. Were he a blushing type of person, his cheeks would be showing pink through his beard; his nostrils now obsessing over the, albeit covered, smell of arousal from someone he was so compatible with. He rose from his seat to go find Bilbo, given that the hobbit had not come into the living room, where almost all of the party was gathered, and was likely fretting over the dumpsite that was now his kitchen.

 

Thorin found the beta in the cramped larder, though even he could tell that it likely hadn’t ever been so empty of food before.

 

“Master Baggins,” Thorin almost flinched as Bilbo jumped in surprise. “I wanted to see if you were alright.”

 

“Oh, uh, yes, certainly,” The beta twitched almost nervously as he turned to speak properly with the towering alpha, the same one he’d been busy trying to drive from his mind. “All that business with the dragon and the um, fainting, has got me in a bit of a fumble.”

 

“I understand,” Thorin mused over how such a nervous creature could be emitting a smell that put him at such ease, and, in that instant, wished he could do the same for the poor hobbit. “You are still decided against joining us come morning?”

 

The answer sat on Bilbo’s tongue, as though it could not physically make it out. His eyes met Thorin’s, and, to his surprise, found a slight worry creasing his brows. Taken aback, the beta allowed himself to take in the dwarf, despite how adamant he should have been about forgetting Thorin’s existence- for his own good. The alpha’s lips were drawn taut, his whole face looking concerned- as concerned as one can look, when one isn’t used to expressing emotions in their facial cues- and it reminded Bilbo of his dream, of this potentially flattering, amazing alpha who cares about his wellbeing, and his presence.

 

“Actually,” The word was out before Bilbo could filter it, but he didn’t very much wish to. “I should like to join you.”

 

~

The man across the bar had a build that positively screamed _alpha_. Nori could tell the man’s status, even without being close enough to smell him over the many other patrons, even given that this man was a human.

 

Nori, an alpha himself, shifted in his seat, throwing the man a come-hither look from under his eyelashes, his tongue darting out from between his lips to lick a thin line along the rim of his glass. The man, this human alpha, stood, and meandered slowly across the bar towards Nori. The man was a tall, thin alpha, not at all stocky and broad like dwarven alphas tended to be; but his big hands and the ever-so-sure look in his eyes had Nori’s blood boiling for a good tussle in the back alley.

 

The scent of tall trees and wild animals assaulted Nori’s senses as the man passed behind his chair, dragging his hand along the back and encouraging the dwarf to hop up and join him.

 

The warm summer air hit Nori as he exited the building; he was still nowhere used to this kind of climate, having spent most of his life in, or around, mountains. The human village that Nori found himself in currently was one he knew well, he knew the backstreets, and all the little hiding places (and, of course, all the easy targets).

 

With a certain grace that he congratulated himself for, Nori flaunted around the uneven cobblestone pathway to the shady alley beside the building.

 

Locking eyes immediately with his obviously interested escort, the dwarf let out a flirtatious little growl, knowing it would immediately be returned, with more vigor. The human gave him a growl that summarised alpha behaviour very nicely; the low reverberations had Nori slinking up to the taller man, scenting him scarcely where he could, and sinking to his knees before him.

 

Nori was nothing if not a prideful alpha. Though he allowed himself to offer his mouth up for this larger, much more typical alpha specimen, he felt as though he had the real control. A flirty wink and a cock in his mouth- or ass- didn’t make him any less of a dominant alpha, for it was all too easy to lead from the receiving position.

 

The dwarf nudged at the interested bulge through the man’s trousers, parting the fly slowly and seductively, making eye contact all the while. Once the human’s cock was bared to the air, the musky scent of this alpha hit him in full force- Nori actually believed he was running across a deep, luscious forest floor for a moment- and the dwarf couldn’t stop himself from diving in, teasing the tip of the man’s dick with tiny licks, accompanied by an evil glint to his eye that would make dark wizards jealous.

 

The sounds of scuffling feet came immediately from the front of the building, as though several people had burst out the front door of the bar.

 

Nori wet his lips and allowed them to slowly slip down the large shaft, mentally preparing himself to take in something so big, to the noises of confused shouting and scattering of bar patrons.

 

“I can’t believe we fucking lost them!” An echo came down the alleyway, Nori recognised it to be a member of the town guard. “Hey, wait-”

 

“Jesus, man, leave these guys alone.” Yet another guard, Nori didn’t allow his nerves to affect his stellar oral performance. “Unless you want to physically drag someone’s mouth off a dick tonight.”

 

A quiet grunt of agreement and the sounds of retreating steps resounded in Nori’s ears, and he pulled back off the human’s cock.

 

“So, what did you get, Magnus?” Nori asked, as nonchalantly as possible in his current position.

 

“Oh, a box of jewelry, and the money register from the bakery.” The human, Magnus, replied with a sigh. “Honestly, I’d hoped you’d at least finish the blowjob this time.”

 

“And take away your chance to brag? Forget about it.” Nori tucked Magnus’ dick back inside his trousers, and stood, falling a while short of the human’s height. “Besides, you might want to wait a little while longer; I raked in enough coins to maybe…. treat ourselves tonight?”

 

“You want to share an omega at the whorehouse?”

 

“You could just call it a brothel; no need to be so crass, it is the world’s oldest profession, you know.” Nori led them out of the alleyway, drawing his hood up high.

 

“If that’s true, then how did people get the goods to pay for sex?”

 

Nori shrugged. “Well goods had to come from somewhere; maybe they grew food, or caught food.”

 

“But then farming or hunting would be the oldest profession?” Magnus opened the door to the brothel, nodding to the familiar lady at the desk.

 

“It’s only a profession if you get paid to do it, and in my mind, they’re not, they’re doing it solely for the ability to pay for sex.”

 

“You guys have the lamest fucking discussions,” The lady, who’s name Nori had long forgotten, piped up. “Seriously, for a pair of kinky assholes like yourselves, you come across pretty damned nerdy.”

 

“Can we just have your finest omega with a side of potatoes, thanks?” Nori dropped some coins on the counter with a cheesy grin, obviously finding his own joke hilarious.

  
  
  


 

Sweat dripped down Nori’s long nose in bullets, his arms barely able to hold him up any longer.

 

He hovered over the lovely human, a female omega, that they had paid for, no longer caring if he sweat on her.

 

She laid on her back, her head thrown right back into the plush pillow, screaming bloody rapture as Nori continued to piston into her. The dwarf was barely aware of his own, overly loud, obscene noises as the thick cock of his human alpha companion met him, thrust for thrust.

 

Hours into their little rendezvous, as the pair had paid for the entire night, and Nori had lost count of how many orgasms they had taken the time, and the care to squeeze out of their temporary omega. He himself had found completion 3 times, the first two had been tortured out of him, at the will and mercy of Magnus, and his lovely omega assistant.

 

The smell of the wild alpha behind him was driving Nori crazy, and he bared his throat, pulling out of the omega as she came again, though he couldn’t bring himself to care this time. The girl shuffled to the side, allowing the dwarf the room to stretch out his spine, arching it beautifully, pressing his face deep into the sheets, and presenting his rear for Magnus to take his pleasure from.

 

Nori was completely unaware of just how blatantly he was displaying his neck to be bitten, until he felt the warm, heavy, panting breath rush over his skin, the first touch of sharp, formidable teeth. Whether it was the heat of the moment, general instincts of a dominated alpha, or Nori’s general unquenchable thirst, the dwarf found himself pressing his skin back against Magnus’ teeth, feeling them rest a way off of the mating-bite spot, the spot that would tie them together forever, and so he felt guilt free allowing Magnus to have his way with this consequence-free piece of prime biting real estate.

  
  
  


 

For a moment, Nori saw nothing but light, a single light in the darkness, and he was certain that the human guards had actually instructed their archers to fire at him, that he was dead.

 

But then came the image of Magnus.

 

Magnus, stood solid, like a brick wall, between him and the offending guards, putting himself in extreme danger, to see Nori walk away safe.

 

Only the guards had ceased to exist.

 

All that was real was him and Magnus, Nori was certain. He stood in awe, his brain registering nothing but the fact that the two of them were alone, together, and that’s all Nori wanted there to be from now on. His chest swelled, and he took a minute step towards Magnus.

 

Nori was ripped violently from his daydream when the human was suddenly not in his place, under the beam of golden light anymore.

 

When Magnus suddenly hit the ground, his skull giving a sickening crack against the concrete.

 

When Nori felt the cold steel of handcuffs being wrapped around his wrists, pulling him away from the crumpled-up body of… his One.

 

When Nori felt the unauthorised tears fall from his eyes.

  
  


 

It took years for Nori to be able to look a human in the eye without feeling the undesirable urge to stab them; they, who took his One from him far too soon.

 

It took even longer for Nori to be able to look his own reflection in the eye without remembering the horrible sight of Magnus on the ground.

 

_His fault._

  
  


 

Nori was smiling, sat down in the parlour of Bilbo’s hobbit hole (the alpha still giggled at the name), in a deeply mischievous discussion about pussy with Bofur, and old acquaintance.

 

He hardly even thought anymore, of the days when smiling would not come to him, no matter how hard he fought for it.

 

Nori had rebuilt himself. He had not moved on, he could never move on; but shady thieves makes a surprisingly good support system, and he felt almost no violence towards himself anymore.

 

The smell hit him like a blacksmith’s hammer, right to the gut.

 

The smell of dark, mildew-y wood. The smell of a scattering of dry leaves on a forest floor, kicked up by a wind. The smell of life, of unnamed animals.

 

The smell of Magnus.

 

Nori shot up from his chair, his nose high in the air, like a startled wolf, searching for an explanation his eyes couldn’t see.

 

The world fell dark around him again, the feeling exactly the same as on that horrible day with the city guards, and Nori could feel his organs fight each other, a nervous mix of a soaring heart and a dreadful stomach.

 

There was, once again, a single light.

 

Nothing existed except them.

 

Except for him and

  


Kili?

 

~

 

The best news anyone could have given Ori would likely have been “Smaug is dead, the road is cleared and safe, and everyone thinks you guys are heroes anyway!”. Given how unlikely he was to hear that, he was beyond contented to be told the second best news. “Lovely young hobbit, Daisy Peatfingers has invited us to bathe in her hotsprings!”

 

Though they had not yet left the Shire, and the trek to Bilbo’s had been only a day, Ori could already feel his hair sit flatter with its own natural oils, and the dirt that 15 horses kicked up during their inelegant stampede on their way into Hobbiton.

 

Bilbo, a man who was obviously going to miss the comforts of his own home, was happy to bond with Miss Daisy in her tea room, discussing how likely it would be for the local inn to be able house such a large company; for large they were, in number and in body mass.

 

Ori was knelt before his pack, searching for a bar of soap, down to his trousers and not much else, when he was nearly knocked flat on his face by a swift figure sprinting past him. A loud splash, and a few hoots and hollers later, he was once again fully upright and shaking his head at the young princes. Not that they noticed poor Ori, they were far too busy dunking each other under water for worryingly long stretches of time.

 

No one would ever try to claim that Ori wasn’t a clever dwarf, and so he did what any other clever dwarf would do, and found another pool of warm water as far away from the brothers as possible.

  


 

The pool he found was up the top of a hill, about 3 metres at its widest point, surrounded by grass-like weeds that offered a veil of privacy. Ori knew he shouldn’t be getting used to privacy on a trip with so many people, and hell, he didn’t have a problem with bathing with others, but god knows that Fili was pretty damned unlikely to stop his flirting, his habit of standing a little too close, just because they were naked. And so Ori validated his avoidance of the princes.

 

His satisfied hum was a nice summary of the luxury he felt, sinking into the warm water, pungent with natural minerals that he wouldn’t mind smelling on his own skin for the next day or so.

 

Ori has barely had a moment to scrub his underarms clean when the weeds beside the pool rippled, announcing another arrival.

 

“Oh, am I intruding?” Dwalin paused by the side of the pool, stripped down to his undergarments, trying not to stare at Ori, where the omega sat on a natural rock shelf, up to his torso in the water.

 

“Intruding? Of course not.” Ori scoffed. “What kind of dwarf insists on bathing alone?”

 

“Sounds more like Mister Baggins.” The alpha snorted in return, pulling off the last of his clothes and descending into the water, his own bar of soap gripped in his hand. He paused. “Do you smell smoke?”

 

“Oh yes, we’re smoking some meats for dinner tonight with Miss Daisy.” Ori lit up. “It’s Bombur’s suggestion to repay her for her kindness.”

 

“I will enjoy such delicacies while they last, then.”

 

“If you get a chance to.” Ori teased, waiting for the confused look before continuing. “Well it does smell like such lovely food, and you do know Bombur’s fondness for tasting a meal before he serves it.”

 

“You jest.” The alpha accused, rubbing the dirt off his face; the motion brought images of the alpha rubbing Ori’s face clean instead, scratching behind his ears and smoothly wiping broad thumbs over the omega’s plush cheeks. It was all Ori could do to hold back his contented purr.

 

“I do not. In fact, I worry there will be enough to go around,” Ori tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should just resign ourselves to the steamed vegetables rather than getting our hopes up…”

 

Dwalin’s face was one of slight panic before he caught the hidden smirk on Ori’s lips.

 

“You cheeky little runt,”

 

Ori barely had time to giggle before he was shoved off his rock ledge. He could stand up in the deepest centre of the pool, but just barely, and he wound up with a sudden mouthful of water and a sudden mindful of revenge. Bowing his knees under water, he shot up, into the shallows to tackle Dwalin, pushing the warrior under the water as best he could, the motion reminding him too much of the play-fighting that Kili and Fili had been up to.

 

Gathering Ori up in his arms, Dwalin stood up on the rock shelf- bringing himself out of the water up to his knees. The omega could do nothing but try his best to cling to Dwalin’s slippery skin, and squeal when the alpha dropped him back into the deep centre of the pool.

 

In an inspiring bout of dexterity and speed, Ori managed to shoot out of the centre, lunge back at Dwalin, grab the alpha’s hand, and drag him back into the deep, and under the water.

 

Dwalin shook his long hair free as he resurfaced, the movement not nearly as elegant as it could have been, and Ori laughed at the wet _smack_ of the long locks hitting the alpha square in the face. The noise caught Dwalin’s attention, and alerted him to exactly where Ori was stood on tip-toes to keep his face above the water.

 

As Ori found himself on the receiving end of a full-body tackle, he mused to himself that Dwalin was obviously toning down his strength and fighting prowess for their little play-fight. Deep in his bones, it felt like the kind of toying that a mated pair would do in their shared bed; the light-hearted wrestle for dominance where the omega was feisty and full of vinegar, and the alpha would be all soft touches and warm embraces.

 

Locked in a tussle with their cheeks flushed bright red- from both exertion and proximity- and half their bodies poking above the water, they gave a sudden pause as the rustling of the weeds by the pool gave them the shortest warning that they were to be interrupted.

 

Fili had barely come into view, barely managed to focus his eyes on the startled pair, before he, himself paused. The two were flushed, dripping and glistening, and stuck in a very compromising position.

 

Dwalin seemed to notice before Ori did, taking account of the way the omega’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, the thin arms around his broad shoulders, and the way the alpha’s own large hands sat way too far down Ori’s back. He felt his cock rest heavily under the warmth of Ori’s hole, and it gave an interested twitch; the slick moisture between their oh-so intimate parts was obviously water, but it clouded the alpha’s mind for far too long.

 

Dwalin tore his hands off Ori’s skin and stepped back all too quickly, the sudden motion and lack of friction between their soaked bodies causing the omega to lose his grip and fall, splashing and spluttering, down into the water.

 

Ori was indignant when he again arose from the water, flipping his hair out of his face and clearing his mouth to the sight of Dwalin, barely wrapped in a tunic, still dripping wet, retreating back towards Daisy’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /shrugs again
> 
> Idk man my *~*~Writing Mood~*~* is all over the place but what are u gonna do lol


End file.
